Medusa
by ProfSnape
Summary: When a member of a militant feminist group is suspected of murdering an Assistant District Attorney, Eames is put in charge of the investigation. Deakins POV. CasefileBA romance. WIP.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Saturday**

It was Saturday, and there's not much I hate more than hauling my detectives back in to work on a Saturday. It's bad enough to work overtime when you're in the middle of a case and see it coming midweek – it's far worse when you think you're clear and get sucker-punched by a phone call when you're about to go outside and play ball with your kid.

Of course, just because I don't like it, doesn't mean I don't do it when I have to.

I had to do it that day.

Eames the first to arrive in the conference room, which didn't surprise me at all. Endicott arrived soon after, complaining bitterly about missing her third Saturday at home in a month and her partner, Matthieson followed her in. Matthieson was – and is – an arrogant asshole, and he strutted into that room as if he knew nothing important could possibly go down without his exalted presence. McFredies and Millen arrived together, as I recall, and I remember thinking how weird it was that they barely looked each other in the face. Turns out my call had interrupted something that day – but that's a whole separate story, and I didn't figure it out until months later, anyway.

Goren was last, which didn't surprise me either, because he usually used Saturdays to go visit his mom. He must have made pretty good time that day, because I hadn't thought he'd make it back until after the briefing. It wouldn't have been a problem, of course. Eames was always like a human notepad – remembered every damn thing you told her as if it were written on the back of her hand – and she would have brought him up to date. But he was there thirty seconds before I was due to start, with his organiser under his arm and a cup of coffee in one hand. I thought for sure he was going to spill it as he headed across to sit next to Eames, but somehow he didn't.

Somehow he never does.

Anyway, with my whole team there, I couldn't put off starting any longer. I pointed to the photo on the board. 'This is Miranda McCormack,' I told them. 'Member of a militant feminist group called Medusa, who believe they're on a mission to eradicate dangerous and violent men from the world. Unfortunately, their definition of 'dangerous' encompasses pretty much anyone with a penis, so their activities aren't exactly well-regarded even in hardcore feminist circles.'

Eames leaned forward. 'Didn't Medusa take out a judge in Oklahoma a couple of months ago? Claimed he was sexist because he refused to uphold the right of a mother to smother a baby son because she didn't want to raise a male in her household?'

Goren nodded. 'The woman argued that she had the right to choose whether she allowed that which was produced from her body to survive. In her view, those babies would not have lived if not for her, so she had the right to take their lives away, but the judge didn't agree.'

'So along comes Medusa, and bang! No more judge,' said Eames. 'Lovely people.'

I nodded. 'Exactly. Medusa have been linked to seventy three homicides across America, and only twelve Medusa members have ever been brought to trial. The FBI is monitoring their activity pretty closely, but they're having a hard time figuring out the chain of command. In the meantime, local PDs are left to deal with individual chapters as best they can, with FBI backup as needed.'

Endicott sighed. 'You're telling us we have a whacked-out Medusa member of our very own to deal with, aren't you?'

I wished I wasn't. I didn't want to get involved in a high-profile case that was bound to get messy. I could just imagine the publicity. Women's lib groups insisting that the male chauvinist establishment left Medusa no other alternative but to push back. College professors and so-called experts debating the social pressures that led to the emergence of groups like Medusa. No-one ever seemed to see crimes like the Medusa case for what they were: crimes. Pure and simple.

But Medusa's structure let Homicide label it 'organized crime' and handball it straight down our throats. I looked at Endicott and gestured again to the photo. 'A patrol officer stumbled across McCormack bending over the body of a recently-deceased attorney.' I flipped through my folder and pulled out a picture of a man's smiling, handsome facce. 'ADA Thomas Puglisi,' I said flatly, and pinned the picture up beside McCormack. 'Thirty seven. Wife, two children, and number three on the way. Cause of death: exsanginuation due to multiple stab wounds.'

Eames frowned. 'If McCormack was caught red-handed, why the task force?'

I sat down. 'McCormack was unarmed when she was discovered. She claims that she stumbled upon the body accidentally, and that she was bending down to see if she could offer any assistance when she was found.'

'Was she covered in blood? Has anyone found the knife?' asked Matthieson.

I shook my head. 'She had a minimal amount of blood spatter on her, consistent with her story of crouching beside the body to check for a pulse. And the knife hasn't been found in the immediate vicinity.'

Matthieson rolled his eyes. 'Then she must be telling the truth. She must have stumbled over the body, and the fact that she belongs to this Medusa-group is nothing but coincidence.'

Goren cocked his head to one side. 'Not necessarily. Twelve trials out of seventy three murders – those are pretty good odds. It would suggest that Medusa has specific plans in place to prevent its members being caught and charged.'

'What better way to avert suspicion than finding the body yourself?' Eames put in. 'Takes care of any of the victim's blood that the police might find on you, and any fingerprints you might have left on the victim.'

'It's risky, though,' said Endicott. 'What if there are witnesses? What if the timing was off and the police find you before you dispose of the knife? If you can put such an elaborate plan in place, why not plan to never be seen at all?'

'Because then people wouldn't know,' Goren said. 'Medusa likes publicity, and as soon as the press finds out that a Medusa member was found at the scene of a violent, bloody death, they're going to get plenty.'

'Air space,' said Eames. 'Headlines. Interviewers asking anonymous Medusa sources why they see such drastic measures as necessary. Journalists writing articles on how and why Medusa arose. And all the while Miranda can stand back and say she's being persecuted by the police for nothing more than stopping to help an unfortunate soul she tripped over in the street.'

Matthieson – who was approximately as subtle as a Great Dane puppy and nowhere near as charming – looked like he had something else to say, but I didn't give him a chance. 'This is all conjecture at this stage, so we need to turn it into fact, fast. If Miranda McCormack did kill Tommy Puglisi, then I don't want her getting away with it. If she didn't, we need to find out who did as quickly as possible. Either way, let's not give these whackos any more publicity than we can help. It only encourages them.'

Matthieson stood up. 'I'd be happy to head up the investigation for you, captain,' he said, formally. He looked around the room. 'I suspect media commitments are going to prevent you from running it personally.'

The bastard was right, but I didn't have to like it, and it didn't have to be **him**. 'Actually,' I lied, 'I was just about to talk about that.' I glanced around the room, and made a snap decision. 'Eames?'

She looked up at me. 'Captain?'

I smiled at her grimly. 'You're in charge.'


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Beginnings

I never doubted for a second that Eames would do well heading up an investigation. She's got the personality for it – sharp, organised, focused – and she doesn't take any crap from anyone. Within five minutes of my announcement, she had Endicott and Matthieson chasing down a list of witnesses, and McFredies and Millen researching Medusa. She and Goren headed off to the crime scene, and she did a damn good job of ignoring Matthieson as she passed him.

I retreated to my office to talk to our media guys about how we were going to handle the publicity explosion that was headed our way, then to take a handful of aspirin for the headache that started building behind my eyes. The next thing I knew, my office door burst open and Matthieson burst in.

I looked at my watch. Two hours, which was about one and a half hours longer than I expected it to take.

'I want to lodge a formal complaint,' he announced, standing stiffly in front of my desk. 'Detective Eames is unfit - '

I stood up. 'Didn't Detective Eames assign you and your partner to running down witness statements.'

'Yes, but - '

I cut him off. 'And you've finished already. That's impressive, detective. There were at least twenty names on that list.'

'Twenty-three,' he said, through his teeth. 'That's not the point. I - '

I walked around my desk, staring him right in the eyes. 'I hope you're not trying to tell me that you ignored Detective Eames' instructions, Matthieson. I hope you're not trying to tell me you haven't finished with the witness statements yet.'

He took a step backwards. Cowardly bastard. If it had been Goren, at least he would have had the balls to get in my face when he made a complaint about someone. 'Captain, a beat cop could be taking witness statements. It's a waste of my time, and a misuse of department resources to have me out there doing grunt work while Goren crawls around sniffing the goddamn crime scene!'

Aha. There we were. The real reason for his complaint. 'I suggest you worry less about how Goren is handling his assignment and more about completing your own,' I told him.

'Sir - '

I walked slowly forward, and he backed up so far he was nearly out my office door. 'Get back to work, detective. That's an order.'

He went. He didn't want to, but he didn't have the guts to argue. I shut my door behind him, sat back down at my desk, and wondered what I had thrown Eames in the middle of. Matthieson was a bastard at the best of times, and he hated Goren with a passion that always surprised me. I never could figure out whether it was because he was frightened of Goren's unpredictability or jealous of his genius, or some combination of the two. Saddling Eames with the pair of them seemed a bit unfair.

I needn't have worried.

I spent most of that day dealing with paperwork and red tape. Media relations. Tap dancing my way through FBI channels to reach someone who could potentially offer some background on Medusa in general and McCormack in particular. Hell, I even had to put through the paperwork for the overtime my hastily assembled team was due, and justify the fact that I had six detectives working through the weekend instead of waiting for Monday to roll around.

Eames and Goren returned a few hours after leaving, closely followed by Matthieson and Endicott. I stood in my doorway and watched to see what would happen. Goren dropped calmly into his chair and sat staring at his fingertips. Eames gathered the rest of her team into the conference room.

Matthieson looked at Goren and started to speak, but Eames cut him off. 'You can share your findings with us in the conference room. For security reasons, we won't be discussing anything related to Medusa in the squad room or in any other public space.'

And before Matthieson could complain, she'd swept him and the rest into the room and shut the door. I found that decidedly…interesting and couldn't resist finding out more.

I walked over to Goren and sat on the edge of his desk. 'Any progess?'

He tipped back in his chair and looked at me. 'Let's just say I'm not inclined to believe Miranda's version of what happened.'

'When is she coming in?' I asked.

Goren looked vaguely baffled – practicalities sometimes did that to him – and shuffled one-handed through the papers on his desk. 'Matthieson, uh, spoke to her already but didn't get much out of her except what the beat cop already did. We're, uh, we're wondering if she'll be more forthcoming speaking to a woman.' He stopped shuffling and looked directly at me. 'Eames wants to leave her until Monday, then hit her with any inconsistencies we find in the meantime.'

That made sense. 'Do you agree?' I asked, though I was fairly sure he'd say 'Yes' regardless of what he truly thought. It's generally considered bad form to rat on your partner to someone in authority. Still, Goren was Goren and anything was possible.

He fidgeted in his chair. 'I think it's a very good idea. We've got surveillance on her in case she decides to run, but I don't think she will.' He looked back down at his desk and started shuffling papers again.

I couldn't help myself. 'Lost something?'

He flipped open his organiser and began paging through it. 'The ADA had a business card in his pocket when he was found,' he said, distractedly. 'The original's been taken for fingerprinting, but I wrote down the web address that was on the back.' He seized a slip of paper and set it aside triumphantly.

I looked at it. 'This doesn't look like it's got anything to do with Medusa,' I said.

'I don't think it does, but we still have to investigate the possibility that Miranda is telling the truth. She's not the only one who might have wanted to kill Puglisi.'

It was a good point, and I didn't argue with it. I do remember wondering why Goren was still out here while the rest of the team talked in the conference room, but I held my tongue and returned to my office.

Nobody knew Goren like Eames did, and if she saw fit to keep him separate from the rest of the team, I wasn't going to argue.


End file.
